


My Date With Ms. Harshwhinny

by CrazyChimkenLady



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-03-17 21:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18972988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyChimkenLady/pseuds/CrazyChimkenLady
Summary: Single, nerdy, and eccentric stallion, Comet Burst, had always had a talent for repelling available ladies. Trying his luck on a blind dating game, he ends up getting paired with Ms. Harshwhinny. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Russian Roulette

 

**My Date With Ms. Harshwhinny**

CrazyChimkenLady

 

_Chapter One: Russian Roulette_

 

The royal city of Canterlot stood proud upon its pedestal that was Mount. Canterhorn, its beauty amplified by the sun’s golden rays. Pristine and unmarred, it made a picture perfect scene for a fairy tale painting. Its upper-crust residents carried themselves with dignity and poise, garbed in the most lavish fashion brands that advertised their social status. One denizen, housed on the outskirts and outside of the circle of the ritzy homes, emerged from his modestly-sized ivory spire. He wore nothing but a saddlebag upon his back, spiral binding belonging to a sketchbook holding up the flap and preventing the bag from completely closing. He was a unicorn stallion at twenty-three years of age. Despite his age, his flank bore no cutie mark. He possessed a somewhat lanky build, masculine muzzle protruding from a rounded head. His pelt was a bold shade of azure, five navy blue freckles dotted on his cheeks. His cyan mane and tail were a stark contrast to his coat, forelock mostly folded over to the right like a curled wave.

He pushed the front door shut with a hind hoof, his burgundy eyes alight with a cheerful twinkle. Forgoing dignity and poise, the young stallion broke into a lively trot. Humming a jazzy tune, he ventured into the city’s heart. A crowd congregated between a row of shops and restaurants attained his attention and disrupted his ditty. Slowing his gait to a walk, he approached the crowd with intentions on satiating his curiosity.

The unicorn squeezed between ponies to find a middle-aged unicorn stallion with a coat of brown and a salt and pepper mane and tail. He donned a sharp white collared shirt beneath a red and yellow plaid vest and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. Emblazoned upon his flank was a bow and arrow that wouldn’t be out of place in Cupid’s arsenal. A roulette table with a stack of forms splayed out on the side separated the stallions as the younger unicorn closed the distance.

“What’s your name, son?” the elder unicorn inquired, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Comet Burst, sir!” the young stallion enthusiastically replied, surveying the contents on the table. “What’s all this?”

“I call it ‘Love Roulette’! Drop in the marble, give ‘er a spin, see what date you will win!” came the older stallion’s reply. “Care to give it a shot?”

Comet Burst was intrigued. “So…this is like a blind dating game? I get a date no matter what number I land on?”

“Precisely!” Horn glowing, he enveloped a silver marble in his magic and held it out to Comet Burst enticingly. “Nopony goes home empty-hooved.”

“Count me in!” Comet Burst extended his hoof to accept the marble. Dropping it into the wheel, he promptly gave it a whirl. He wouldn’t admit it to this friendly stranger, but he had yet to experience his first date. During his high school years, mares fled from him, repelled by his eccentric personality and nerdy aura. A date without the hassle of working up the nerves to ask out a mare sounded like a win to him. “Come on, Lady Luck, Comet needs a good one.”

Comet Burst’s eyes followed the marble, muscles tensing up in anticipation. Tension intensified as the wheel gradually slowed. He dropped to his haunches, forehooves gripping the edge of the table. After what felt like an eternity, the wheel ceased all movement, the marble settling upon a number and sealing his fate.

“Number seven!” he cried, throwing his hooves into the air. “Lucky number seven!”

The older stallion’s smile faded, the result giving him no reason to share Comet Burst’s exuberance. Muttering something along the lines of “Poor boy” under his breath, he proceeded to announce the result. “Number seven! Will number seven please step forward?”

Jumping to his hooves, Comet Burst whirled around to meet the mare chance had chosen for him. Ponies parted to make way for her. Upon getting a good look at her, all traces of his usual cheer melted away. While he had never personally met her, he was well aware of her reputation. An earth brown mare with a mane and tail of gold and a sharp purple business suit locked her icy blue oculars with his, her stoic expression inspiring nervousness within him.

She looked him over, displeased with her match. Of all the available stallions in Canterlot, she got paired with this colt-ish looking stallion. Her scowl only tightened when he offered her a nervous grin.

Silence was exchanged between them as Comet Burst wracked his brain for something to interrupt the awkward stillness. Unable to procure a proper greeting, he said the first thing that popped into his head.

“Aw, fuzzy umbrella-carrying kangaroos.”

 

* * *

 

 

Comet Burst felt unprepared to be gallivanting with a mare of Ms. Harshwhinny’s caliber. His hopes had been on a sweet mare who would smile for him at simple kind gestures and laugh at his jokes. Ms. Harshwhinny didn’t fit his ideal mare at all!

Slumped against the front door, he lifted his forehooves to his temples to apply a calming massage.

“Okay…I can do this. It’s just the one date. How bad can it be?”

The merry chime of the doorbell had never sounded so dismal. Rotating on his rear, he fumbled with the doorknob. Pushing the door open, his balance slipped away from him and he toppled over onto his side at Ms. Harshwhinny’s hooves. Peering up at her, he noticed the business suit had been replaced by a simple crimson dress.

“Hey. Ready to go?”

The same scowl he had been acquainted with was still embedded in her visage. She quirked her brow and stepped back. His forelock was a sliver away from touching her hooves. “You didn’t bother to dress for the occasion?”

Bewilderment stole over the stallion’s features. A few seconds into the date and he already messed up. “Isn’t the first date supposed to be a casual thing or something? I think?”

The mare rolled her eyes in response. In the process, she caught a glimpse of the interior of his home. On the floor a sketchbook, papers, and pencils were carelessly splayed across the hardwood surface. “Is your house always a mess?”

“Uhhh,” was the only answer Comet Burst was able to conceive. Scrambling to his hooves, he slammed the door shut.

“Disregarding your appearance and leaving your home in such a state of disarray is no way to impress a lady,” she scolded him.

Comet retained a calm composure despite the castigation. “Yeah, uh, so, shall we get going? There’s a pretty nice place close by.”

“If we must,” she sighed, permitting him to escort her.

Mere minutes passed them by before Comet Burst completely disregarded Ms. Harshwhinny’s earlier criticism. A carefree smile found its way to his face. The mare found it odd this young stallion appeared to be so cheerful after a scolding. Even when he turned a grin to her, she chose not call attention to it. As the stallion’s chosen restaurant came into view, he trotted ahead, eagerly grabbing at the door handle. Pushing it open, he held it firmly in place in hopes of receiving some form of appreciation for his gesture.

“After you, ma’am,” he said, dipping his head in a bow.

Ms. Harshwhinny eyed the unicorn as she passed him with the same cold expression. She wasn’t impressed with his choice, but at least he was polite. The dimly lit bistro wasn’t fancy, but nor was it a cheap establishment. She surmised that she could have been taken somewhere worse.

“It’s not anything fancy, but I ain’t one of those rich, upper-class ponies,” Comet Burst stated as he joined her side.

“I already had an inkling you weren’t.” The mare scanned their surroundings. The mood was calming, almost soothing. “I suppose this is…acceptable.”

“At least I’m not a total disappointment,” he quipped, hoping a little light-hearted humor would help her relax.

“We shall see.”

The host returned to his post after seating a couple. The light gray unicorn stallion, perpetual boredom frozen upon his face, levitated a pair of menus from the neatly stacked pile beneath the stand. Led to a table, Comet Burst pulled out one of the chairs for Ms. Harshwhinny to take a seat. Sapphire oculars swiveling his way, she acknowledged him with a curt nod.

“Vould you care to see ze vine list?” the waiter monotonously inquired as Comet Burst took his seat across from Ms. Harshwhinny.

“Uh, maybe.” Comet Burst shifted his attention to his date. “Do ya want any wine?”

“I suppose a glass of Marescato would be lovely,” the mare affirmed.

“The whole bottle, please,” Comet Burst requested of the waiter. “In case she wants more than one glass.”

“Very good, sir.”

Watching their waiter leave them, the young stallion turned an awkward smile to Ms. Harshwhinny. Nervousness he experienced before meeting her at his doorstep finding him again, he leaned inward and planted his forelegs on the table. He twiddled his hooves, scouring his brain for an icebreaker. “Sooo…Big boss of the Equestria Games, eh? That’s a pretty big deal.”

“Quite so,” she responded, brows knitting. “Would you sit up straight? And keep your elbows off the table.”

Comet Burst shot upright, befuddled by the sudden snap. It was then he decided that he was going to help himself to some of that wine. The arrival of the waiter managed to alleviate a small fraction of tensity. The gray unicorn set two wine glasses down between the pair. His expression changed for the first time, contorting to convey his struggle as he attempted to yank the cork from the bottle. Concentrating the extent of his magical strength on the cork, he gave one last pull. The cork came out with an audible **POP** and flew out of the stallion’s magical grasp. Ricocheting off an ornate vase, it sailed into the direction of the kitchen the instant a unicorn chef emerged.

“Seven banana cream pies!” he announced, said pies floating in his telekinetic hold. Cork bouncing off his horn, he stumbled forth, the break in concentration causing him to drop the pies.

The cork’s rampage continued; it knocked over fell a couple’s champagne, severed the chain holding up a glass chandelier, upturned trays of food, and finally ended its journey when it nailed Comet Burst between the eyes. The young stallion cried out, slapping his hooves to the inflicted area.

Disregarding the pandemonium taking place all around, Ms. Harshwhinny’s hardened expression softened somewhat to convey concern. “Are you all right, Mr. Burst?”

“Yeah…I’m okay.” He expelled a long sigh, rubbing his face. “Man, almost got a new hole in my head.”

“Terribly sorry, sir,” the waiter apologized, his countenance returning to its usual bored state.

“Nah, nah.” Comet Burst waved him off, scrunching up his face as he removed his remaining hoof. “It’s okay. Was an accident.”

The waiter said nothing further. Filling their glasses, he left the bottle with them to tend to another table. Ms. Harshwhinny took a savory sip, her earlier concern for the stallion across from her no longer present.

“I hope future dates aren’t this crazy. But I probably just jinxed myself.” Comet forced out a chuckle in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “I take it you don’t go to places that get this nuts often?”

“Certainly not. My restaurant experiences are typically pleasant,” Ms. Harshwhinny stated, her dour mask returning.

Comet Burst reached for his glass, downing half of its contents in a few gulps.

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Harshwhinny jabbed her fork into the crisp romaine lettuce, the resulting _crunch_ promising freshness. While her date had yet to impress her, the food at least appeared delectable. She glanced across the table at Comet Burst. She found it odd the unicorn opted to utilize his hooves rather than magic, but she wasn’t bothered by that. It was his eating habits that inspired mild disgust. His cheeks protruded from his face as he stuffed a sizable forkful of Alfredo penne into his mouth.

“Slow down and don’t take such large bites! You are not an animal!”

Comet Burst’s ears fell back, her consistent nagging grating his generous patience. Swallowing, he exhaled on a sigh and set his fork aside. Planting his hooves on the table, he rose from his seat.

“Okay, you know what?” he began, his tonality making a drastic change. His brows furrowed against his burgundy eyes as they locked with the mare’s, displaying his annoyance. “I’ve had enough of your attitude, ma’am! There are plenty of mares out there who’d like me just the way I am and…and if you don’t like the way I do things or how I act, then…then it’s _you_ who isn’t good enough for _me_!”

Ms. Harshwhinny dropped her fork, absolutely thunderstruck. It wasn’t often another individual lashed back at her. At the moment, she couldn’t even recall anyone doing so. Yet, this young stallion managed to summon the gall to tell her off.

She was actually…impressed.

An awkward stillness descended upon them, the mare’s widened eyes observing him as he settled himself back in his seat.

“Yeah…So there,” he continued in a much calmer intonation. “I may be eccentric and have a baby face, but at least I know how to treat ponies with respect.”

Ms. Harshwhinny dropped her gaze to her salad, her mind reeling. She and Comet Burst continued their meal in peaceful silence. It wasn’t until she was halfway finished with her meal that she responded to his tirade. “Mr. Burst…I apologize. You have done nothing to deserve such denunciation…My behavior has been rude and most unbefitting of a lady.”

She honestly didn’t expect him to accept her apology. In her experience, bitterness was the typical reaction to the behavior she displayed. The subsequent smile that spread across his face put her off guard.

“Comet. Just call me Comet.” The stallion didn’t anticipate an apology, and receiving one already put him in a better mood. The waiter stole his attention for the final time as he was presented with the bill. Placing his hoof on one end of the strip of paper, a earth brown hoof appeared on the other end. “I got this.”

Ms. Harshwhinny shook her head. “I insist. You have done enough.”

“Really, I don’t mind. I was the one who rolled for a date.” Comet Burst gave pause, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t make me fight you.”

The mare’s irritated scowl found her again, accompanied by bemusement over Comet Burst’s rather odd jape. She didn’t relent her hold on the bill, making it apparent that she wouldn’t back down. Caving in, Comet Burst removed his hoof.

“Okay. You’d kick my butt, anyway. I should pay for _something_.” The stallion’s eyes lit up. “And I think I know what.”

Ms. Harshwhinny frowned. What ever it was this strange, young stallion was up to, she was certain she would want no part of it. Still, the evening was young and she had nothing better to do than spend it at home in solitude. She might as well endure the activity his mind concocted.

 

* * *

 

 

“The artist really captured the desire for love, trapped in crippling loneliness and isolation under a torrent of despair,” Comet Burst relayed, enraptured by the oil painting displayed before him and Ms. Harshwhinny. “Or it could just be a painting of a sad kitten in a box under the pouring rain.”

Fine art was something Ms. Harshwhinny _never_ expected Comet Burst to have any interest in. Yet, he energetically pranced about with childish glee. She had to admit to herself a trip to the art gallery was a good idea. There was something about the collection of works passionately crafted by talented hooves that tranquilized her soul. The corners of her lips curled into a small smile, visibly relaxing as she found enjoyment in the various forms of artwork.

They managed to traverse through the entire art gallery without any further catastrophes. Comet Burst questioned the seemingly ordinary soup can displayed on a marble pedestal. Ms. Harshwhinny balked at the sheer absurdity, and the feeling of obfuscation remained with her until they exited the building.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Comet Burst spoke up, wide grin stretching over his muzzle. “How about I walk ya home?

“I suppose you may,” the mare sighed. She glanced over at him briefly. The stallion trotted at her side directing his attention to the darkened heavens.

“We didn’t really get a chance to get to know anything about each other. Aside from what little we already know.” The stallion flashed her a grin befitting an idiot. “So…Wanna give it another shot? Who knows? We might be able to find some common ground, despite how different we are.”

Ms. Harshwhinny’s features became creased by a frown. He was a nice stallion, but she honestly wasn’t interested in him. His eccentric personality and childish energy put her off. With how she treated him, she surmised he deserved a second date. “One more date, and that’s it.”

“Cool. Why don’t ya pick what we do since dinner and the art museum was my idea?” the unicorn suggested.

She gave pause. There was one event that popped into her mind, but she doubt Comet Burst had the attention span to sit through it. “Next Saturday _Farbe der Liebe_ will be premiering at the Canterlot Theater. The premise seems promising.”

“A play, huh? Sure! I think I’d like that.” Comet Burst couldn’t even remember the last time he watched a play. “Canterlot Theater next Saturday it is!”

Ms. Harshwhinny exhumed another sigh, hoping that the play would bore the stallion and deter him from asking her out on future dates. One more date, she mentally mused, and she would be rid of him.


	2. Failing Action

_Chapter Two:_ _Failing Action_

__

__

The cheerful summer weather was a stark contrast to the mood of a certain blonde and earth-coated mare. Her dour exterior surrounded her in a veil of gloom that all but summoned her own personal rain cloud. While she had been looking forward to the upcoming show taking place at the Canterlot Theater, the source of her disposition stemmed from the eventual arrival of her date. Instead of dressing up, she opted for her favored purple jacket and the set that came with it.

 

Stationed outside of Canterlot Theater, Ms. Harshwhinny surveyed the river of colorful equines, all dressed to the nines, waiting behind a red rope. If this date was going to be a repeat of the last one, then her stallion companion for the day was going to stick out like a pickle in a bushel of apples. Last week, she and Comet Burst both agreed to meet at their destination before they parted. In her perspective, cutting out a walk with him to the theater was an improvement to the date.

 

Casting her icy gaze into the direction she came from, she espied a familiar azure and cyan figure. Just as she predicted, he had chosen not to dress up. He approached in a prancing trot, his sanguine countenance brightening up the already blithesome day.

 

“Hey, Ms. Harshwhinny! How ya doin’?” he addressed, his tone as lively as his appearance.

 

“I’ve been better,” she replied, her cold demeanor standing strong against his warmth. “On multiple occasions.”

 

Comet Burst was unaffected by the verbal jab. He felt there was nothing she could say that would bring down his high spirits. His wide grin was trained on her as he directed himself towards the line. “Aw, well, maybe the show will put ya in a better mood.”

 

The mare wasn’t the least bit convinced her day would improve. She made every effort to ignore the unicorn throughout the duration of their time in line. The river of ponies flowed into the theater and assembled into one iridescent body. Ms. Harshwhinny and Comet Burst were situated on the right and near the center. It wasn’t an ideal arrangement, but Comet Burst stated that they could have ended up in the back rows.

 

From beneath the curtains emerged a beige and brown pegasus stallion, clothed in a black Victorian Era vest and a crimped collar with a clashing pair of baggy jeans sagging at his flanks and a backwards baseball cap. The grace and dignity of a professional actor became lost in an explosion of teenage angst.

 

“WAZZAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!” he bellowed, throwing the entire audience into a state of stunned confusion. “Love sucks! It messes with yo’ head, like…like middle school math! Ya try to figure it out, but ya can’t! It waits fo’ ya in a dark alley and punches yo’ heart in the face! And when ya try to escape, it drags ya back and takes yo’ money!”

 

The stallion stepped aback, slipping into the curtains. A befuddled hush was shared among the crowd. It was the opening that rendered the audience baffled and uncomfortable that popped Comet Burst’s cheerful bubble. Ears folding back and eyes never leaving the stage, he leaned into Ms. Harshwhinny’s direction.

 

“What was the premise of this play?” he inquired, the volume of his voice at a whisper.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s typical scowl replaced by a mixture of bewilderment and regret, filed through her memory for the premise that had been relayed to her by a source she now deemed questionable. She should have anticipated the word of a D grade theatrical producer wouldn’t be reliable when it came to quality content. “A mare and stallion from opposing families fall in love. Quite cliche, but I was assured it is a guaranteed hit.”

 

“Uh…huh.”

 

* * *

 

 

Despite the title of the play being Germane, it was set in Fetlockhead of Trotland. Yet, none of the actors spoke in a Trotish accent. Accents changed and blended with dialects of other regions. Along with intermingled accents, each character had no set personality, often undergoing drastic personality changes. In addition, the actors put no effort into their craft for this piece. Their lines left their lips and drifted on hallow notes vaguely resembling emotions.

 

“Yer very pretty and soft loik butter,” the male lead halfheartedly declared to the leading female in a barely recognizable Hockney accent. “Therefore, I love ye.”

 

The mare let out an unenthusiastic giggle and responded in a terrible Prench accent. “And you are moderately handsome and don’t smell like ze dead feesh. I love you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“My lady, you know Sir Troutbottoms has forbidden you to see that passably alluring son of Lord Herpaderp,” declared a unicorn mare donned in a modern Prench maid uniform.

 

The leading lady sighed, throwing a hoof to her forehead in a partially dramatic fashion. “Oh, Prench Maid. Father would nevar undarstand.”

 

“But…he fell in love with your mom and married her,” Prench Maid assured.

 

“Nevar undarstand.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Yo, dawg, no way am I lettin’ ya date mah sistah!” a burly earth pony growled, focusing a glare on the leading stallion.

 

“Good sir, I challenge you to hooficuffs!”

 

As hooves were thrown, failing to connect with their targets, Comet Burst found himself in the process of comforting a stallion nearly twice his size. A white-coated unicorn, with a black mane styled into a mohawk and tail cropped short, was slumped over the blue stallion’s shoulder, his cheeks streaked with eyeliner. Piercings lined his ears, the edges of his eyebrows, the outsides of his nostrils, and the middle of his bottom lip. The pony he dwarfed adjusted himself on his rump, finding the spikes adorning the large stallion’s leather vest sharp.

 

“S’okay, bro. It’ll be over soon,” Comet Burst consoled, one foreleg around the hulking unicorn and the other hoof patting his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

“Prench Maid! So you are the villain,” the Troutbottoms daughter gasped in mock shock.

 

“Yes, I am!” the Prench maid affirmed, appearing to becoming acquainted with madness.

 

“But why?”

 

“Because I’m evil! And evil ponies do villain things!”

 

* * *

 

 

A series of uninteresting events accumulated into a poorly choreographed and anti-climatic battle. The parties of Sir Troutbottom and Lord Herpaderp were aided by knights, vikings, gladiators, pirates, ninjas, and ponies depicting the Japonese mafia. The aggressive shoving, gentle stick-poking, and helpless flailing ended in a struggling pile of equines.

 

As the play came to a close, the actors were completely dispirited; color drained from their coats and eyes dulled like a dying candle, as if performing this theatrical creation had sapped their souls. More than half of the audience was absent, the absentees unable to withstand viewing the entire program. The majority of them possibly required long-term therapy.

 

 

Stunned and flummoxed, Ms. Harshwhinny numbly attempted to comprehend the levels of inanity she just witnessed. Outrage settled in, rattling every fiber within her being. So many questions summarily raced through her mind. Why would anyone write such an atrocity? Why would anyone work on it? __Why?__

 

“Man, that sucked.” Comet Burst’s voice pulled Ms. Harshwhinny’s mind back to reality. Ears flopped back, the stallion’s face was contorted to display his displeasure. The white unicorn he had been comforting earlier was long gone with the other absentees. “I seen a lot of bombs, but this tops the list.”

 

“Indeed! I have never seen a more horrid piece of rubbish!” the mare snorted. “Why, it’s a travesty to theatrical art!”

 

“It’s a travesty to __all__  art, Comet Burst followed. “Sometimes I wonder if things like this are made deliberately.”

 

“Ponies are just incompetent,” she huffed, whirling into the direction of the exit where multiple ponies were making a hasty retreat.

 

Comet Burst followed suit, the baffling effects of the performance lingering in heavy currents. “Some time ago, I had an idea for a story set in Trotland that focused on a budding friendship between a simple farm mare and a kelpie.”

 

“At least that sounds more promising than __this__  hogwash.”

 

The blue unicorn quickened his pace until he was at the mare’s side, throwing her a smirk. “So my work is just slightly better hogwash.”

 

She shifted her sapphire orbs to him, quirking a brow. The playful quality of his smile and tonality told her he was jesting. “I would hope so. The world doesn’t need more hogwash.”

 

“Well…we kinda need the hogwash so we can appreciate the good stuff,” Comet Burst stated, he and Ms. Harshwhinny coming to a stop behind a blockage of ponies struggling to squeeze through the exit.

 

“I’m content with spending my time only on quality entertainment,” she informed, her patience beginning to wane as she watched the wall of equines attempt to wiggle free.

 

“That’s fair. I know I never wanna see this play again. Even if the actors put all they had into it, that wouldn’t have saved it.”

 

“The acting was dreadfully wooden,” Ms. Harshwhinny scoffed. “Such performers should never be permitted on stage.”

 

“Hey, now, they’re probably really good,” Comet Burst interjected. “They might have just thought this play wasn’t worth putting the energy in it. And they gotta put on more shows of that thing. They got it rough.”

 

The mare turned her attention back to the stallion. “You do make a fair point, but that show absolutely should have __never__  been produced.”

 

“That, I can agree with!” Comet Burst let out a huff of a chuckle. “What was the writer thinking? The story was inconsistent and had more holes than Swiss cheese!”

 

“It was a trite attempt at a plot with an utterly nonsensical outcome,” the earth-pelted mare said, finding relief when the equine barricade budged.

 

“The plot wasn’t the only thing that was nonsensical,” Comet Burst agreed, witnessing the ponies in front of them collapse the instant a few mares freed themselves from the bunch. Several more of them followed. “The characters were one-dimensional with no actual personalities. If any of ‘em traded lines, I wouldn’t know who was who.”

 

“The dialogue couldn’t have been worse if a foal had written it,” the earth pony tacked on.

 

“It was more awkward than I was in high school!”

 

The unicorn’s gibe received no verbal response. What he did receive completely blew him away. The tiniest hint of a smirk tipped Ms. Harshwhinny’s lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to communicate to him that she felt some form of amusement. He broke into a wide grin over his victory, as small as it was. As they exited, he turned to her, his pep rekindled. “Wanna get donuts?”

 

* * *

 

 

Magic enveloping a fresh batch of chocolate glazed donuts, Joe neatly arranged them in the display counter. He took a step back to admire the rows of delectable treats enjoyed by both nobility and common ponies. The arrival of a new customer tore him away from the donuts. His smile broadened at the sight the beaming unicorn stallion, but all traces of cheer were promptly replaced by nervousness the instant his eyes laid on the sharp-tongued mare.

 

“It’s all good, Joe! She’s with me. We’re just here for donuts,” Comet Burst assured, but it did nothing to soothe the confectioner’s anxiety. He allowed the door to swing shut once his date stepped in. “Anything specific ya want?”

 

“I’m partial to Broncston cream and eclairs,” she said, scanning the selection as she approached the display.

 

“Oh, I love those!” he chimed, prancing up to the counter. “Can we get a couple of each, please?”

 

“Sure. Coming right up,” Joe responded, voice betraying his nervousness.

 

Comet Burst and Ms. Harshwhinny had every intention on footing the bill. In unison, their hooves slapped enough bits for all four donuts onto the counter. Both equines faced each other.

 

“We split down the middle?” the unicorn offered.

 

“Hm.” The earth pony nodded and removed half of of her bits as Comet Burst did the same.

 

Donuts wrapped in dry wax paper, the pair seated themselves across from each other. Ms. Harshwhinny chomped down on her Broncston cream donut, the force of the bite squeezing out the filling and firing it straight into Comet Burst’s face.

 

“MY EYES!” he shrieked, falling from his chair. He laid helplessly on the floor, his hooves vigorously rubbing at his eyes to be rid of the vanilla pudding.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny dropped her donut, eyes springing open wide. She launched herself from her seat to retrieve a stack of napkins. Planting herself at his side, she swatted aside his hooves to wipe the pudding from his face. He blearily gazed up at her, tears spilling from his irritated eyes. She shoved the remaining clean napkins into his hooves to allow him to finish the job himself.

 

“Thanks.” His eyesight gradually cleared, recognizing the look of concern with a twinge of guilt upon her features. He already made the assumption that a heart laid beneath that gruff exterior of hers. Now, he had the privilege of catching a glimpse of it. He was quiet for a few moments while he cleaned up the remaining traces of filling. The soiled napkins were collected into a pile. “Want to…be friends?”

 

It was a sudden request that caught Ms. Harshwhinny off guard. So much for being rid of him after this evening was over. She wasn’t much of a social butterfly outside of work. Her intimidating appearance and demeanor prevented other ponies from venturing too close. The fact that this stallion was actually interested in staying in contact with her because he actually __wanted__  to took her by surprise. She couldn’t bring herself to refuse him. There was something about that dorky grin that failed to charm countless females.

 

“I…I suppose we can keep in contact as associates,” she caved, tearing away from his burgundy gaze.  
  
”Awesome!” Comet Burst pulled himself to his hooves, scooping up the napkins to dispose of them.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny picked up her partially eaten donut, watching him drop napkins on his way to the garbage bin. She was unsure how to feel about this development. Spending time with someone on a consistent basis would be a drastic change. She had to remind herself that a change to her lifestyle of solitude was the reason she decided to participate in the blind dating event. Maybe she would grow to tolerate the eccentric stallion and the changes that came with him.


	3. An Un-fur-tunate Cat-astrophe

_Chapter Three: An Un-fur-tunate Cat-astrophe_

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The Monday following the second date blessed Comet Burst with a commission that would provide him with a generous income. While he wanted to spend another day out of the weekend with Ms. Harshwhinny, his project demanded a tremendous amount of time to justify its price. He was grateful Canterlot had no shortage of wealthy ponies willing to spend their money on a luxury like art.

 

Comet Burst’s studio took up half of the living room, one half dedicated to painting. A deep farmhouse sink built into the wall separated both halves, its once pristine white surface tainted by a myriad of faded stains in multiple colors. The hardwood floor, too, was flecked by dried paint in the vicinity of the easel. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with acrylic, oil, and watercolor paints. On the other side sat a oak desk, its drawers holding graphite and colored pencils, pens, markers, pastel sticks, and assorted tools. On top of the desk sat a stack of sketchbooks and partially finished drawings. Standing at its side was a bookshelf filled with art books and additional sketchbooks, the heaviest stored at the bottom to anchor it in place.

 

A couch and a pair of chairs on each side separated the art studio from the rest of the living space. Despite the separation, pencils and papers were still strewn across the floor. There were no photographs on the walls. Instead, drawings and paintings in various mediums of family members, a few friends, and his parrot were prominently displayed.

 

Layer upon layer of brilliant acrylics were applied to the bleak face of a canvas. During drying periods, the stallion lavished attention and affection onto his blue Quaker parrot. The piece ate into the weekend and consumed another half-week before it was completed. Meticulously attentive to the minuscule details, he was left mentally exhausted. He spent the rest of his weekdays taking it easy.

 

Friday bowed out and made way for Saturday. Rejuvenated, Comet Burst precipitated himself to the commodious cage that housed the bird. Bare wooden blocks and crumpled balls of paper were dropped into the cage and foraging toys swapped out to provide entertainment while the unicorn was out.

 

“You be a good boy for Daddy, okay, Eggroll?”

 

The bird ceased his assault on the paper ball to glance up at his owner. He briefly pondered over the pony’s words and resumed tearing into the paper with his beak.

 

* * *

 

 

Upon arriving at Ms. Harshwhinny’s doorstep and greeting her in his usual friendly manner, Comet Burst explained his prolonged absence. The mare felt mild intrigue when he revealed himself to be a self-employed artist. Now the trip to the art gallery and the mess of papers in his home she had caught a glimpse of on their first date made sense. A leisurely walk in the park was suggested by the stallion. It did sound relaxing, so she complied.

 

Nestled near the outskirts, the park served as a natural oasis among the expanse of architecture. A cobblestone path cut into the park, supplying a clear route past a display of flora, over a stream that snaked through, and encircled a duck pond. Side-by-side, Ms. Harshwhinny and Comet Burst were guided by the path, their gazes wandering and admiring the landscape.

 

“I think some new flowers were planted since I was last here,” Comet Burst spoke up, his gaze frozen upon spots of yellow, red, orange, pink, purple, green, and white.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny halted as the unicorn did, following his line of vision. Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah, yes. Those are zinnias.”

 

“Zinnias. Hope I can remember that. Those would look good in artwork.” He focused more intently on the blooms. “I prettied up a lot of stuff with flowers, but I can never remember what the flowers I draw are called.”

 

“I can always remind you,” the mare passively offered, admiring the zinnias’ iridescence.

 

“I’d appreciate that. I’m already gettin’ ideas.” The unicorn’s mind reeled with possibilities. The quantity of colors they came in would guarantee their versatility. “You like flowers?”

 

“You could say that I have an affinity for flowers,” she affirmed.

 

Comet Burst opened his mouth to speak, but words failed to pass his lips. A sudden rustle from the zinnias startled him and Ms. Harshwhinny. Wide-eyed, the equines recoiled and put space between themselves and the flowers. The blossoms shook again before the creature hidden beneath them pounced. A silver-furred mare with a white tail donning a mascot head depicting a silver tabby with exaggerated doe eyes and a mouth in the shape of a rounded W. Her cutie mark was an exact replication of her mask, with the addition of a pink blush plastered over the cat’s cheeks.

 

 

“Nyaaa!” she squealed, voice in a high pitch. Planting herself before Comet Burst and Ms. Harshwhinny, her shrill voice took on a panicked tone. “Tasukete!”

 

Overcoming the unforeseen surprise, concern washed over their features. The mare and stallion turned to each other, their collective minds processing the situation.

 

“Nyaaa! Watashi o tasuketekudasai!” the shrill voice of the cat-pony pulled their attention back to her. “Watashi no neko wa ki ni tachiojo shite imasu!”

 

“Okay, I understood a few of those words.” Comet Burst’s face scrunched up in concentration as he attempted to understand what the cat-pony was attempting to convey. “I learned some Japonese from watchin’ anime, but I’m far from fluent.”

 

“She said her cat is stuck in a tree,” Ms. Harshwhinny deciphered, earning an utterly baffled reaction from the stallion. She closed the distance between herself and the other mare, expressing more pronounced concern. She wouldn’t admit it, but she did have a soft spot reserved for animals. “Take us to the poor creature.”

 

“Hai! Kochiradesu!” Whirling around, Cat-Pony broke into a swift gallop down the path. Comet Burst and Ms. Harshwhinny followed, strenuously pumping their legs just to keep up with the swift-footed mare.

 

“Where’d ya learn…to speak Japonese?” Comet Burst panted, fleetingly averting his eyes to Ms. Harshwhinny.

 

“Learning several languages…is a requirement for a well-traveled pony…such as myself,” the golden-maned mare replied, keeping her gaze glued to the equine in front of them.

 

“That’s pretty awesome!” the azure unicorn complimented on an expelled huff.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny did not reply, choosing to save her breath for the jaunt to the aforementioned tree. She had been athletic in her younger years, but she was still spry past her prime. Cat-Pony brought them to a healthy maple tree standing proudly by the duck pond. Comet Burst stumbled, legs searing from the exertion. Legs threatening to give away beneath his weight, he planted his haunches onto the plush grass. Ms. Harshwhinny experienced only a slight burn in her legs. The pair waited for Cat-Pony to point out the location of her feline, their sides heaving with each winded pant.

 

“Miyu-chan!” Cat-Pony extended a foreleg and pointed her hoof at an outstretched bough well out of their reach. A partially grown silver tabby resembling the mare’s mask and cutie mark was holding on for her dear life, eyes wide with pronounced terror.

 

“Miyu,” the kitten mewled, voicing her predicament to the equines below.

 

A greater amount of sympathy flooded the hearts of Comet Burst and Ms. Harshwhinny. Breathing rate regulated, the stallion rose from his flanks, he and his companion approaching the foot of the tree.

 

“This shouldn’t be too difficult,” Ms. Harshwhinny said. “All you really need to do is utilize your magic.”

 

Comet Burst’s eyes sprang open wide, his ears swiveling back as he was abruptly overcome with embarrassment. “Yeah…I would, but…I can’t.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny and Cat-Pony jerked their attention away from the feline. The brown-furred mare’s face manifested an incredulous masque. “What do you mean __you can’t__? You’re a unicorn!”

 

Espying other ponies strolling by, the unicorn curled inwards in a reflection of self-consciousness. “I mean __I can’t__ , okay? I’ll explain when we’re alone, with no other ponies around.”

 

Her visage softened. Did this unicorn really mean he was incapable of using magic? It would be a viable excuse as to why she had yet to witness him use magic. She couldn’t begin to fathom how it would feel to be a unicorn without the ability to cast magic.

 

“If ya climbed on my shoulders and I stood up, I think we can reach kitty,” Comet Burst diverted, his eyes returning to the kitten.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny decided not to press the matter. She would coax an explanation out of him eventually. His suggestion made her uncomfortable, her mind invoking images of herself falling from his shoulders and sustaining an injury. She doubt the Canterlot Fire Department would bother assisting them when ordinary citizens were capable of helping the cat. Her mind failed to conjure a better plan.

 

“I suppose that will work.” She trained a warning glare on the stallion, who shrank beneath it. “Do. Not. Drop me.”

 

Comet Burst nodded vigorously. Straightening out, he dropped into a crouch to grant Ms. Harshwhinny easy access to his back and shoulders. He winced as hooves prodded and dug into tender areas. Slowly rising, he turned to face the tree. The sturdy trunk supported him as they ascended to their hind hooves. The mare reached for the cat, her hooves a few inches short of her goal.

 

“Can ya reach kitty?” Comet Burst inquired, his view obscured by the earth pony’s body.

 

“Not quite.” She dared to lean in further, her stomach lurching from the anticipation of a fall as she wavered. The mare’s balance was retained. Soft hairs tickled her outstretched hooves the instant they grazed the feline’s paws.

 

The kitten shied and arched her back, eliciting a frustrated groan from Ms. Harshwhinny. The furry creature bunched up, wide eyes calculatingly observing. Into the air she leaped, landing on the mare’s head. Downward she scaled, needle-like claws nearly puncturing Comet Burst’s skin. The gripping at the sensitive flesh covering his ribs sent pain coursing through his nerves. A shrill yelp escaped the confines of his throat, jumping aback and unintentionally launching Ms. Harshwhinny into the pond. The cat left the stallion before he met the ground, bounding over to her owner.

 

“Miyu-chan!” Cat-Pony rejoiced, forelegs wide open and waiting to embrace the feline.

 

Comet Burst scrambled to his hooves and found Ms. Harshwhinny standing knee-deep in water. Drenched and dripping, her expression reverted back to it’s usual irascibility. Her nostrils flared and quivered to expel a snort.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Cat claws are sharp!” he profusely apologized, bustling into the water with her.

 

Her physiognomy sharpened into a scowl. Comet Burst’s ears flattened against his skull, tentatively raising a hoof in preparation to assist her. He never got a chance, nor were either of them bestowed the opportunity to reply. Cat-Pony dashed into the water to throw her forelegs around their necks.

 

“Arigatogozaimashita!” Cat-Pony squeezed them, breaking away after a moment elapsed.

 

Comet Burst and Ms. Harshwhinny watched her take her leave with her cat. The gratitude they received did nothing to soothe the mare’s vexation. The blue unicorn lifted his hoof once more, guiding it to her sleeved foreleg.

 

“Come on. Let’s get ya home before ya catch a cold.” His offer to assist her was not accepted. She leaned away from him, hoof rising from the water in preparation to swat it away. He stepped aback to allow her space. “Or…you can do it yourself. You’re a big girl. You know your way home. See ya maybe next week.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny observed his departure. She had been awaiting an explanation for the stallion’s lack of magic, but she would receive a visitation from him soon. He would be questioned during their next meeting.


	4. In Sickness and In Health

_Chapter Four: In Sickness and In Health_

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Equestria saw the passing of three days when Comet Burst made his daring journey to the home of Ms. Harshwhinny. He had been reliant on the elapse of time to soothe the mare’s mood. If she didn’t want anything to do with him just yet, he could always leave the casserole that was balanced precariously on his back and give her more space. A fluffy hot pad separated the bottom of the hot dish from his back. The back was one of the worst spots for a pony to receive burns. Burdens on top of burns made for an unpleasant experience.

 

Approaching the home crowned by a purple roof, he gave the doorbell a tap with his hoof. His ears perked, training on the annoyed grumbles originating from the other side of the door. For a fleeting moment he considered leaving the dish on her doorstep and fleeing, but the thought left as quickly as it produced itself. He was not a coward. He would face the mare and apologize for clumsiness, even if the cat was the causation. His greeting smile melted away as the door swung open and revealed the earth pony. Her body was bare, fur wet in patches with sweat and mane disheveled. Bags sagged beneath her sapphire oculars, exhibiting exhaustion. She sniveled, reigning in a rivulet of mucus that attempted to escape her nostrils.

 

“What?” she snapped hoarsely, her sickness diminishing her typical snark.

 

Comet Burst’s jaw fell open, yet no words came at first as his brain processed Ms. Harshwhinny’s sickened state. He found his voice once his mind progressed. “Oh, man…I…I brought you a casserole, and I wanted to apologize for what happened, but I never expected…” He gave pause, taking her in once more. “I never thought __this__  would happen. I’m sorry…”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny knew an apology had been coming her way, and an apology would’ve been sufficient. What she didn’t see coming was the addition of a meal. She was familiarized with brown-nosing. Her years spent as an inspector meant ponies buttering her up for their own benefit. No hint of manipulation could be found in the stallion’s eyes. He actually cared. She just didn’t understand __why__.

 

“Apology accepted, but don’t expect me to be so forgiving the next time something like this happens due to your bumbling endeavors,” she said, raising a foreleg to cover her mouth as a minor coughing fit hit her.

 

“You’re talkin’ as if it’s gonna happen again.” Comet Burst chuckled as Ms. Harwhwhinny responded with a brusque expression. “Okay, it’s bound to happen again. But by then, maybe you’ll like me enough to forgive me.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s was cut off by a sneeze that was followed by a more protracted string of coughs. Again, Comet Burst’s smile faded, replaced with concern.

 

“Hey, let’s get ya back inside.” Comet Burst took a step into her direction, dropping his head to gently nudge her shoulder with his nose. The mare’s coughing ceased, leaving a painful scratchiness to torment her throat. She lethargically turned around to retreat back into her home. The stallion followed her closely, paternal instincts kicking in. “Do ya got enough supplies? Need me to pick up anything?”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny didn’t have the energy to argue. Her sore throat, too, protested arguing. Laboriously, she made her way to a purple Victorian claw foot sofa. The mare felt as if she was trying to pull herself from a mud bog as she hauled herself onto the couch. Keeping the couch company, a small trash can was overflowing with used tissues and their empty box. Her body sank into the plush purple cushioning, silently cursing her misfortune. She __hated__  being sick; she despised feeling so vulnerable, especially in the presence of another being.

 

Comet Burst’s eyes rested upon the trash can. “I guess that answers my question.” A gentle smile splayed over his lips as he met the mare’s gaze. “I’ll get ya some more tissues and other stuff. We’ll get ya feelin’ better in no time.”

 

The mare responded with nothing more than an affirmative grunt. Her eyes tailed him as he trotted into the kitchen, presumably to set down the casserole. The assumption was proved correct when he emerged without his burden. Striding across the room, he sent a toothy grin her way.

 

“Be right back.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s eyes snapped wide open at the sound of her front door creaking open and slamming shut. Comet Burst, laden with a grocery bag dangling from his mouth and a stockpot saddled on his back, strode over to the mare. Setting down the bag, he fished out its contents. Box after box of medicated and lotion infused tissues were stacked within the earth pony’s reach. A bag of honey-flavored cough drops summarily deposited by the tissues, the unicorn raised his head and locked eyes with the sick mare.

 

“I got the good tissues that should be soft on your nose,” he stated. “And I figured that casserole wouldn’t feel so good with a sore throat. That can always be eaten when it’s feelin’ a bit better. I got the things I need in the pot to make ya some soup. It’s a recipe my grandma would make when somepony got sick. It’s spicy, but maybe it’ll speed up your recovery a bit.”

 

First, he brought her a casserole, then he picked up supplies for her, and now he is making her soup? Ms. Harshwhinny’s ears fell back, her stony countenance softening a slight degree as her hardened heart was touched with gratitude. She directed her cold blue orbs to the tissue boxes and cough drops, suddenly finding eye contact awkward.

 

“You know, ponies could easily take advantage of you,” she rasped and promptly cleared her throat.

 

“But you’re sick,” the stallion gently countered. Scooping up the bag containing the cough drops in his hoof, he ripped it open with his teeth and extended it to Ms. Harshwhinny. “You’re allowed to.”

 

Her ears twitched at the bag’s crinkling, retaining her focus on the object in Comet Burst’s hold. Tentatively, she slipped a hoof into the torn entrance to claim one of the cough drops. Freeing the honey-flavored tablet from its paper prison, she allowed eye contact.

 

“Thank you,” she said, popping the throat lozenge into her mouth and tossing the wrapper into the pile of used tissues.

 

“No probs! Your buddy’s here to take care of ya!” Comet Burst chirped. “You take it easy while I make the soup.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cutting up the fresh ingredients was time-consuming, but Comet Burst eventually horded a pile of diced yellow onions, garlic, ginger, tomatoes, jalapenos, habaneros, ghost peppers, and a single dragon’s breath pepper. All sauteed with olive oil, they were joined by vegetable stock, cayenne, cumin, oregano, and a few squirts of lime juice. Ingredients blended thoroughly, the stockpot was capped by its lid and the stallion left the soup to simmer.

 

Comet Burst found Ms. Harshwhinny resting her head upon a purple pillow leaning against the armrest. He paused his stride and allowed his eyes to wander. A few potted plants and pieces of artwork decorated the living space, but the vast majority of the walls were covered with photographs and shelves holding up ribbons, metals, and trophies. Curiosity compelled him to investigate. A high school-aged Ms. Harshwhinny was displayed donning a white collared and cuffed shirt and tie beneath a black jacket, suspended over two-toned fences with her forelegs tucked tightly beneath her. __Youth Equestria Games__  was printed on the gold medals while the collection of ribbons proclaimed feats in various show jumping events.

 

 

The show jumping honors gradually lessened as Ms. Harshwhinny aged, only to be replaced by awards attained by a far more strenuous sport by the time she became an adult: steeplechasing. No longer adorning the sharp attire, the mare required nothing more than a helmet and her assigned number attached to a fleece girth. In every image, she was a magnificent sight. With each picture of her hitting the wire, her well-developed feminine musculature flexed beneath her sweat-slicked coat and fiery determination gleaming upon her features. In nearly every photograph, she was the clear winner by a significant margin. In one picture, she won by four lengths. In another, she beat the field by six lengths. The stallion’s eyes widened at an image where the closest mare was trailing behind her by a whopping dozen lengths. She didn’t just run enough to win, she __dominated__  her competition.

 

Comet Burst stopped by a series of framed newspaper clippings. Skimming the text, her full name was revealed to him. “Victoria Victorie 'Vivi' Harshwhinny.”

 

“Vivi was a nickname bestowed upon me by my parents,” Ms. Harshwhinny croaked, nearly startling the stallion. “They couldn’t decide between Victoria and Victorie.”

 

“So they went with both,” he chuckled, scanning another column. “It works. Looks like ya lived up to your names. And Vivi is a cute nickname.”

 

“Refrain from calling me that,” she groaned, bitterness entering her tonality.

 

Comet Burst arched a brow in wonderment. Was the nickname something she only wanted to hear from her parents? “Okay, sure.”

 

He went back to reading. An entire page took up a frame, a photograph of Ms. Harshwhinny edging in front of a much larger stallion to win by a nose took up a third of the space. Parting his lips, he proceeded to read the headline aloud. “ _ _’The Undefeated Flying V Upsets Grade I Champion, Wild Wind.’__  Wild Wind…He looks like a champ…”

 

The stallion was mostly obscured by the diminutive frame of Ms. Harshwhinny, but aside from the size he could make out bulging muscles.

 

The mare snorted, a brief cough following. “After I defeated him, he dodged me to ensure he wouldn’t be beaten by me again. He may be a winner of multiple grade I races, but he lacks the sportsmanship, courage, and heart of a true champion.”

 

Comet Burst scrunched up his muzzle in disdain. “Wow. That’s lame.”

 

“He’s a coward--an arrogant coward,” she grumbled. “After my injury, he finally ceased scratching from races. While I was recuperating, he accumulated the wins to secure end-of-the-year honors and had the audacity to declare there was nopony good enough to give him a run for his money. He could have defeated me if he hadn’t slowed down. The idiot believed he had the race before it was even finished. I closed in and passed him by a nose. The winning margin possibly could have been more significant if I hadn’t been impeded by other stallions. Wild Wind is quick, but he has no grit.”

 

The unicorn plopped himself onto his haunches before the mare, his visage expressing alarm. “You’re allowed to do that?”

 

“Of course not!” Ms. Harshwhinny paused to cough before resuming. “All who interfered were disqualified. I have never been able to prove it, but I would be a fool to believe there wasn’t foul play involved. I’m certain those stallions were paid by Wild Wind to throw the race in order to protect him.”

 

Comet Burst shifted on his rump, his mind processing the information transmitted to him. “I didn’t…think racing was actually as dirty as I heard.”

 

“Every sport has its dirty players. Don’t let it deter your interest. Steeplechasing runs deep in our history and culture,” the brown-pelted mare stated, bringing up her fetlock to cough into it again.

 

He nodded in acknowledgement, rising to his hooves. “Don’t put judgement on a thing because the thing has a few bad apples. Maybe you can tell me more about the sport when you’re feelin’ up for it. No better to learn from than a professional!”

 

“That is…one way of putting it.” Ms. Harshwhinny snagged one of the tissues. She exhumed a sigh through her nostrils the instant the velvety softness caressed her nose. “As for educating you on the history of steeplechasing, you won’t come across anypony more adequate than somepony who participated in the sport.”

 

The azure unicorn’s smile reappeared, taking a pair of steps aback. “I believe it! Come on, let’s head into the kitchen. The soup should be simmered enough.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s tissue befriended the rest of the trash can’s filling before she scooted off the couch and followed Comet Burst into the kitchen. She parked herself at the dining table, awaiting to be served. She directed him to the cabinet and drawer where the bowls and silverware were stored. A scalding hot bowl of the soup was placed in front of her, the mixture of liquid, vegetables, and spices glowing with heat.

 

“Be careful when eating this,” Comet Burst warned, taking the seat across from her. “If you don’t like that, I can always make other soups. I can make garlic ginger. Or sweet potato and lentil. There’s a big chunk of that ginger left I can make tea out of too.”

 

“You have done more than what I’ve expected of you, Mr. Bur…Comet.” The mare dipped the spoon into her soup. She wasn’t used to this degree of sincere kindness. It would take her time to get used to it. “That would be appreciated.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny studied him as she brought the spoon to her lips. Fire licked her lips and razed her mouth, but she gave no reaction to the tremendous heat. She understood the concern mounting in his burgundy eyes now that she had a taste. The earth pony could tolerate it. She possessed a constitution of steel.

 

Comet Burst’s concern shifted to alarmed awe. Whenever he consumed that same recipe, he always needed a gulp of milk after every bite in order to curtail the heat. Ms. Harshwhinny was eating spoonful after spoonful like ice cream. His jaw dropped as he observed the spectacle. This was one hardcore mare.

 

The mare found some amusement in his reaction. Her face reddened as her internal temperature climbed, but she remained resilient. Her mind then turned to the question that burned hotter than the soup: is Comet Burst really unable to use magic? She recalled his embarrassment and decided not to bring it up now. He was going out of his way for her. In time, she will have her answer.


	5. Unearthing Insecurities

_Chapter Five: Unearthing Insecurities_

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Comet Burst didn’t leave Ms. Harshwhinny until a couple of hours into the afternoon. The cough drops and ginger tea with honey did wonders in soothing her throat. In addition, the monstrous soup the stallion concocted for her cleared her sinuses enough to taste the casserole he gifted. Warming it up in the oven, she scooped a serving into a bowl. She grimaced at the pile of light brown mush. She made out brown rice, mushrooms, and carrot slices but the rest remained a mystery. He put in the effort and she loathed to waste food. She could at least try it.

 

The spoon delivered a tiny amount to her mouth. The mare’s icy oculars rounded the second the mush touched her taste buds.

 

It was __delicious__.

 

She detected onion soup mix and cream of celery in the concoction and the brown rice itself tasted like it might have been boiled in vegetable stock. What ever the casserole contained, it was something she wanted again.

 

After she consumed a second helping, she proceeded to store the leftovers. Comet Burst had already did the same with the soup; in her refrigerator, single serving plastic containers were stacked. The calming scent of lavender tickled her partially clogged nostrils as she took notice of the sink free of dirty dishes and the spotless countertop.

 

The next day, Comet Burst returned to check on Ms. Harshwhinny. The mare had assured him she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but she reluctantly acceded after the stallion unleashed the power of his large burgundy eyes that shined with concern for her. He assured her that he would tend to her needs until her lethargy abated.

 

It was nice, though, having her meals prepared, the dishes washed, the house cleaned, and the plants watered for her while she rested. The service was permitted to last for three days, unwilling to allow herself to fall into laziness. She decided that she regained enough strength to fend for herself and sent Comet Burst on his way. The prolonged exposure to his company and attentive care had left an impression on the mare. Dedication like his was something she never expected to receive.

 

She legitimately was willing to embrace his friendship.

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s symptoms significantly waned after a week. While she was still congested, that failed to dissuade her from rising early for a jog. Purple bands hugging her pasterns and matching headband firmly clenched between her teeth, her cold gaze swept over the table where a letter and form laid among bills and useless junk that arrived in yesterday’s mail.

 

The mare turned away from it and pulled on the headband. Her hoof swept over her forehead to adjust the headband and draw her golden forelock out from beneath the length of fabric. Her mind was heavy with the subject matter contained within the letter, starching up her structure with stress.

 

She exited her house once a girth holding a couple of bottled waters was strapped around her hips. An endorphin-producing run would relieve her of her stress. Thoughts veered to the azure unicorn as she broke into a warm-up trot. Maybe the bumbling stallion would be effective in helping her unwind.

 

* * *

 

 

“C’mon, Eggroll, all the carrot bits taste the same. Ya don’t need to throw any out of your bowl.” The Quaker parrot plucked bite-sized pieces of carrot from a metal dish and flung them with careless abandon. A sigh was expelled from Comet Burst’s nostrils, yet a patient smile was drawn over his lips. He scrunched up his muzzle as a piece of carrot bounced off his nose. The bird finally chose a piece at the bottom, eliciting a chuckle from the unicorn. “You’re a butt.”

 

The doorbell attained Comet Burst’s attention. He greeted his visitor with a welcoming smile and his parrot nestled in his untamed bedhead. His smile broadened at the sight of the Ms. Harshwhinny.

 

“We’re going for a run,” she stated before the unicorn could address her.

 

“Oh! Okay, I’m down with that.” He rolled his eyes up. Eggroll bit into the chunk of carrot held in his foot. Tinier pieces fell from his beak and clung to the stallion’s cyan mane. “Just let me put Eggroll in his cage with his breakfast. And I’ll get ready.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny regarded him with incredulity.

 

Eggroll.

 

__Eggroll?_ _

 

The earth pony didn’t know what sort of name this strange stallion would bestow upon a pet, but Eggroll was an off-the-chart sort of odd in her perspective. She personally would have chosen something elegant and dignified for the cute creature.

 

Comet Burst returned to the kitchen. A couple of spinach leaves were dropped into Eggroll’s dish before it was scooped up. The bowl and bird were gently placed into the cage. Before closing the door, the stallion bestowed a loving pat on the avian’s head. “If ya haven’t eaten any spinach by the time I get home, you’re grounded.”

 

Paper and pencils were still strewn about on the floor, Ms. Harshwhinny noticed. The urge to point it out to the azure stallion was maddening, but she withheld her tongue as a method of subtly expressing that she liked him…a little.

 

She was rejoined by Comet Burst, his mane brushed and free of carrot bits and his back burdened by his saddlebags. “Alright! Let’s go! I packed us a couple of waters in case…ya want more.”

 

“Unless you want to risk heat stroke or colic, you will take frequent drinks,” came the mare’s stern warning.

 

The door bumped Comet Burst’s rear as it swung shut. “Doesn’t drinking too much water give ya colic?”

 

“No, that’s an old wives’ tale. There is no evidence that supports the old myth that drinking water during or after exercise causes colic. Only idiots would intentionally dehydrate themselves.” Ms. Harshwhinny led the stallion into a trot. “We’ll start by trotting to warm up and increase blood circulation. Our spleens will begin to contract and increase the amount of blood cells, which will carry more oxygen to our muscles.”

 

“Wow, you’re real dedicated to runnin’.” Comet Burst fell into pace behind the mare, the colored pencils clinking with each paced stride. “But ya wouldn’t have become an amazing racer if ya weren’t.”

 

“Dedication isn’t enough to be successful. You need to consistently push yourself if you want results.” She transitioned into a canter. “Unfortunately, success manages to find those who are undeserving.”

 

Comet Burst followed suit. “Like singers that become famous because they’re good-lookin’ and need pitch correction to sound decent.”

 

“That is one example.”

 

“I got a little sister who is real talented at singin’,” he revealed. “She sings at this restaurant she waits at, but she’s got her hopes on being discovered.”

 

“Perhaps her time will come. Patience is an imperative component to success.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Harshwhinny and Comet Burst kept to the natural outskirts of Canterlot. Her eyes wandered over her shoulder and to the stallion galloping behind her. She detected his fatigue, but no complaints were ever uttered. That was good. She had no patience or sympathy for whiners.

 

 The city was left behind and the pair was enveloped by an open field that separated Canterlot from the eventual downward slope that blended into the mountain’s face. Ms. Harshwhinny espied an overturned tree ahead. She slowed into a canter, muscles bunching up in her hindquarters. Her strong legs launched her into a perfectly timed jump over the tree. Her body still remembered the dynamics. She arced in a trot, waiting for Comet Burst to catch up.

 

Weighed down by enervation and desperate for water and rest, Comet Burst’s face still lit up with admiration upon witnessing such a graceful leap. He forced his burning legs to pump harder and he made his own attempt at a jump. Inexperienced and miscalculating, his forelegs caught the tree and was subsequently sent face-first into the grass on the other side.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny approached him, searching his forelegs for scrapes. None were to be found, but there was a definite possibility of bruising. The stallion’s sides heaved from the exertion and his legs were consumed by a fiery ache. He tilted his head back to meet the mare’s gaze with a smile as he pulled in his legs and arose gradually. “Guess I…should’a timed that better…I’m okay, though!”

 

“Good. I don’t tolerate complaining,” the mare said with a hint of relief lacing her tonality. She whirled around, guiding him towards the ledge.

 

“All it does is annoy everypony. My granny taught me that,” Comet Burst chuckled, his breathing rate normalized. He was grateful they transitioned into an easy walk. His body was begging him for rest.

 

They came upon the ledge and settled into the lush grass. The view, in it’s grandiose vastness, was breathtaking. It alone could mitigate the mare’s attention. Water bottles were withdrawn, the equines threw back their heads to quench their thirst. Ms. Harshwhinny drained the last drop from her second bottle. She frowned in disapproval upon acknowledging Comet Burst’s one unopened bottle.

 

“Drink more water,” she asserted. “You need to keep yourself properly hydrated.”

 

Comet Burst stared at the mare in mild bewilderment, but his typical smile came back to him. Stowing away his empty bottle, he twisted the cap from the second. He hesitated for a moment, his burgundy gaze fixating on her empty bottle. Shifting closer, he dipped his bottle and transferred a third of his water into hers.

 

“That’s enough. Start drinking,” the mare nagged. Her hoof curled around her bottle and she spoke again, her pitch softening. “Thank you.”

 

“Thank __you__  for concernin’ yourself with my well-being,” he responded, sending her a wink. He downed the remains of his water and buried his muzzle into his opposing saddlebag. A sketchbook was fished out and placed between his forelegs.

 

“Are you really unable to perform magic?” Ms. Harshwhinny queried as Comet Burst chose a few colored pencils from his limited supply.

 

Comet Burst shifted his attention to the mare, pencil in his mouth. The green utensil fell from his lips as the stallion took on an expression of embarrassment. Clenching his eyes shut, he attempted to summon the inner mana every unicorn was supposed to possess. Ms. Harshwhinny observed with intrigue. The unicorn’s horn pulsated with the faintest burgundy glow. He grunted and threw in more effort, beads of sweat peeking out from beneath the fur covering his forehead and temples. The pencil below quivered and did nothing else.

 

The stallion’s face flushed, straining on an elongated grunt before he finally gave up. He could feel a headache coming on. Ears rolling back, he lifted his eyes to meet Ms. Harshwhinny’s. “I guess…that tells ya what ya need to know. My horn has glowed randomly when I was around my sisters or parents or Eggroll, but that’s it.”

 

“I see…” Ms. Harshwhinny mused, allowing a twinge of sympathy to enter her voice. A unicorn unable to cast magic was like a pegasus without its wings or an earth pony without sheer strength.

 

“I’m sure you can imagine I got picked on a lot because of that. Grade school was rough.” Comet Burst paused momentarily. “And middle school. And high school.”

 

The earth pony regarded him with an understanding nod. “Everypony endures cruelty during foalhood.”

 

“I don’t suppose you weren’t an exception,” Comet Burst said offhandedly. The mare’s uncomfortable silence stunned him. “Wait…What could somepony as cool as you be teased about?”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s ears flattened. Her sapphire orbs slid into his direction and she scrunched up her unusually lengthy muzzle. The stallion tilted his head, donning puzzlement.

 

“Hold it.” Realization spawned. “Your muzzle? Who would tease ya about your muzzle?”

 

“Shallow fillies who feel the need to point out imperfections on other ponies just to make them feel superior,” Ms. Harshwhinny huffed. She could still clearly recall the jeers she received in her younger years. The taunts were never taken without countering with her own snide witticisms. Her mother had never approved of her cynical disposition.

 

The mare squelched a shudder as her mother’s cold voice pervaded her mind.

 

__‘Ladies apologize for such horrible manners. Such behavior is not befitting of a lady.’_ _

 

Cognizance enfolded her. The words in her apology to Comet Burst on their first date were nearly identical to her mother’s. A flash of anger was experienced with the realization that her overbearing mother still held some semblance of control over her.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Comet Burst’s voice extinguished her ire. She nodded and took a swig of water. “Yes.”

 

“Y’know,” the unicorn began, flipping open his sketchbook. “It’s too bad we weren’t around the same age and went to the same school. We could’a had each other’s backs.”

 

A ghost of a smile traced Ms. Harshwhinny’s lips. “I went to schools for fillies.”

 

A cheeky smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, I might’ve been able to blend in. I’ve been told I’ve got a pretty girly figure.”

 

The mare compressed her lips, a squeak resounding as she suppressed a bubble of laughter. She waited for the silly mental imagery to pass before speaking. “The…thought is…appreciated.”

 

“Not a problem. Friends do that kinda stuff for each other.”

 

Comet Burst’s focus shifted to the blank page in his sketchbook. As he mapped out the scenery on paper, his companion shifted closer. Resting her eyes on the sketchbook, watching the stallion bring the landscape to life drew her closer to solace.


	6. Lunch and a Movie

_Chapter Six: Lunch and a Movie_

__

__

The elastic fibers lining Ms. Harshwhinny’s feet absorbed the repeated impact of hooves pounding cobblestones as she galloped. Her golden mane and tail whipped the wind as she flew, sweaty coat shining like copper. Her daily jogs had graduated into more rigorous workouts. A week had elapsed since that first jog with Comet Burst. She neglected to invite him a second time, as he barely handled what she considered light exercise.

 

The burning sensation racing through her legs was intense. Years had passed her since the last time she worked out like this, and she would be easing into more strenuous conditioning. The long, slow jogs she was accustomed to maintained her aerobic condition. A strengthened respiratory system was required before proceeding to high-energy speed workouts. With the accretion in exercise came an increase of fiber and oils to sustain and promote.

 

She slowed to a canter and imperceptibly declined to a walk. By the time her house entered her line of vision, Comet Burst was located nearly a block from her. The stallion’s ears perked, his casual smile broadening into a full grin and worked his legs into a trot to meet her halfway.

 

“Hey! You look like you’ve been workin’ hard!” came Comet Burst’s cheerful greeting. His burgundy eyes skimmed over her condition. When she had taken him jogging, she hadn’t produced this much perspiration. He joined her side as she proceeded to the front door, donning concern as he analyzed her a second time. “Not pushin’ yourself too hard, are ya?”

 

“Pushing one’s self past their limits yields improvement,” she stated curtly, unlocking the door to grant them both access into her home.

 

“Yeah, but…I don’t want you pushin’ yourself too hard,” he said, finding relief in the cool still air.

 

“Your concern is appreciated, but unneeded.” The mare strode into the kitchen to fix herself a generous glass of water.

 

Comet Burst followed her. He waited for her to replace the water content her body had lost before he spoke. “I, um, dropped by to ask if ya wanted to have lunch and maybe watch a movie at my place.”

 

Two full glasses consumed, Ms. Harshwhinny set her empty glass down on the counter to wait on her for another refill when thirst hit her. “I am following a very strict diet.”

 

“Really? Why didn’t ya say somethin’ when I brought ya that casserole and made other food?” Comet Burst’s visage was suddenly washed over by enhanced concern, a slightly panicked note entering his voice. “You didn’t get a bad doctor visit, did ya?”

 

“No, nothing like that,” she assured the unicorn. “I only started it a few days ago.”

 

“Oh. Any particular reason why? I mean…” The azure unicorn gave pause, his eyes roaming the mare’s trim frame. “You look great.”

 

“Hm. As you recall, used to be a steeplechaser,” the mare began as she began rummaging through her pantry. A spherical box of oats and a bag of sugar beet pulp shreds were gathered into one foreleg. She walked to a different section of the counter and unloaded. “Every year, the owners of Trottingham Racecourse hold the Ten Year Reunion Cup to top entrants of the most prestigious races ten years prior.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny turned to Comet Burst, her countenance molding into a determined scowl. “The very same race where I defeated Wild Wind, and I fully anticipate meeting him again.”

 

“Uh-huh, uh-huh.” The azure unicorn nodded. “And ya wanna make sure ya beat him.”

 

“I don’t want to __beat__  him. I want to __crush__  him,” the mare enunciated with concentrated acidity. She strode back to the pantry for a can of sweet corn and a bottle of soybean oil. “I only wish I received the letter informing me of this last year instead of three months before the race. Even with my unblemished record, I wasn’t certain I would even be chosen. With the injury I sustained, I missed half the season and was unable to claim more prominent races.”

 

“Three months isn’t enough time to get ya in better shape?” Comet Burst questioned, his gaze moving to rest upon the small assemblage of food items.

 

“Absolutely not. I would have liked at _ _least__  six months.” Ms. Harshwhinny tucked her head into one of her cabinets for a wooden salad bowl. Her jaws bore the weight as it joined the amassed components on the countertop. “Would you mind fetching me the alfalfa from the pantry? Thank you.”

 

“Sure thing.” The unicorn trotted to the pantry. His burgundy oculars skimmed over the stocked shelves before he found a bright green nine-pound bag with __Lucky Legume Power Protein Alfalfa__  superimposed over a white label. His teeth gripped the rolled lip.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny was turned to him, awaiting the delivery. He came to a stoppage before her and stretched out his neck. The mare leaned in, her protruding muzzle brushing against the stallion’s cheek as her teeth clamped down on the bag. The physical contact was unintentional, but blood rushed to his cheeks, creating a light shade of pink. Teeth clenched from the starch tension that now inhabited his body, the mare was unable to take the bag from him. She side-eyed him, furrowing her brows as puzzlement took over. Comet Burst returned the gaze, the close proximity magnifying the fine details of her sapphire irises. Deep blue mingled with lighter shades in a crystalline texture.

 

They were _ _beautiful__.

 

“Comet?” Ms. Harshwhinny spoke through compressed teeth, snapping the unicorn out of his transfixed state. The stallion relinquished his hold and backed up, bemusement written all over his countenance. She stared at him for a moment, his bafflement magnifying her confusion. “What is the matter with you?”

 

Comet Burst stole a few seconds to mull it over and voiced his well thought out conclusion.

 

“I…duh…dunno.”

 

An awkward silence fell between them. Ms. Harshwhinny turned around and deposited the bag by the salad bowl. The pungent, earthy smell of fresh alfalfa hit her nostrils as the bag was parted open. The legume filled the bowl halfway and was topped with oats, drained corn, and a drizzle of soybean oil. The sugar beet pulp went in a separate bowl with water to absorb.

 

Comet Burst observed the mare acquire a pair of salad tongs and toss the alfalfa, oats, corn, and soybean oil. What just happened? Shock and a rush of heat to his face followed by complete derailment of his train of thought had been spurned by a simple touch to his cheeks. The mesmerism by her eye only managed to pull him deeper into confusion.

 

“You said you wanted to watch a film?” Ms. Harshwhinny queried, drawing Comet Burst away from his mental musings.

 

“Huh? Oh! Yeah! I was hopin’ you were willin’ to swing by my place for a little while. I can set up the projector and we can watch a movie together.” His demeanor steadily gravitated towards his usual behavior. “Nothin’ stupid, I promise. I actually do have some stupid movies, but those are for when I’m in the mood to laugh at somethin’ dumb.”

 

Pausing her task, Ms. Harshwhinny turned a skeptical gaze over her shoulder. The resultant dorky grin from Comet Burst did nothing to diminish her dubiety.

 

“Nothin’ I show ya can be any worse than that play we saw, right?” The stallion chuckled. “No way would I show ya anythin’ terrible. That’d just be mean.”

 

“I suppose you would know better than to choose one of your anserine films,” she stated, obtaining a couple of bowls in preparation to divide the alfalfa mixture and soaked sugar beet pulp between the two of them.

 

“But I don’t got any movies about geese,” Comet Burst quipped.

 

First bowl half-filled, the mare turned to the unicorn. Mildly amused by his play on a secondary definition of anserine, she rewarded him with a partial smirk. “You are incorrigible.”

 

Comet Burst laughed. That one little smirk was worth the risk of annoying her with his pun. He was growing more fond of those rare moments where she allowed him to see her shed a portion of her stoic masque. He reveled in every second of it.

 

* * *

 

 

Ms. Harshwhinny shifted into a comfortable laying position on the couch, witnessing Comet Burst’s Quaker parrot dash around his owner as he struggled to set up the projector. The stallion kicked a leg into place and it successfully stood sturdily. He exclaimed triumphantly, which the avian mirrored with an enthusiastic splaying of his wings.

 

“Yes! Thought you could defy me, didn’t ya, projector? I was too powerful for your projection-ness to handle!” A maniacal grin splayed across the unicorn’s muzzle, making Ms. Harshwhinny question herself why she agreed to this. Stepping away from the device, he extended a hoof to the parrot. The bird hopped onto the stallion’s pastern and was carried to the couch. “Okay, I can fetch a movie while Eggy keeps ya company.”

 

Comet Burst extended his bird-burdened hoof to the couch and left them once Eggroll jumped off. The Quaker parrot’s beady eyes scanned the mare curiously, vocalizing tongue clicks. Waddling up to her, he ducked into a crouch behind her foreleg. Unused to the company of parrots, she was at a loss for a reaction.

 

Eggroll’s head suddenly popped up from behind Ms. Harshwhinny’s foreleg, verbalizing a scratchy “Peek-a-boo” and ducked out of sight again. A small smile crept onto her muzzle at the display of pure cuteness. A second time, Eggroll peered over her foreleg with another, just as animated, “Peek-a-boo.” The bird was obviously well-loved if he learned such mannerisms. All traces of her stone exterior melted away for the adorable feathered creature.

 

The attention of both the mare and bird were diverted as a box of tissues were lowered to the couch by Comet Burst. Tearing the protruding tissue from the box, he dropped it onto Eggroll. The parrot shrieked in delight and tore into it with his beak.

 

“Gonna need these.” A wide grin spread across the unicorn’s face as he met the mare’s intrigued expression. The movie I picked out is a major tearjerker.”

 

Ms. Harshwhinny’s incredulity increased the moment her eyes beheld the animation manifested on the white screen. “Your tearjerker is an __animated__  film?”

 

An ominous shadow crept across the stallion’s cheerful visage. The brown-pelted mare raised a brow, expectant of some form of assurance from him.

 

“Oooh, __this__  isn’t one of those happy sappy animated movies ya take kids to see. First time I watched it, I cried like a foal throughout the thing and I had a mood drop for a few days afterwards.” In a split-second, his ghastly guise was wiped away by his typical jocundity. “Enjoy!”

 

* * *

 

Ms. Harshwhinny raised a tissue to her nose to dab her eyes. The film began with the introduction of a happy couple in a vibrant countryside paradise bringing home a colt. Several hospital visits led to the diagnosis of severe combined immunodeficiency and was doomed to a sheltered life in a sterile environment. From the sanitary safety of his home, he watched other foals play outside. As the colt aged into a pre-teen, a filly took notice of him watching her frolicking with her friends. Writing notes as a form of communication, they foraged a friendship. The filly was never permitted to come into the house to play, which pained both children. They made do by playing with a window between them. By the time the colt became a teenager, his yearn for a normal life compelled him to leave the security of his home to spend the day with his friend. Due to the weakened condition of his immune system, he was unable to fight off the pathogens lurking in the outside world. The adventure led to the hospital. The film ended on a low note. Aware that he was unable to fight of the virus he contracted, the colt requested that his friend would be permitted to see him. His body giving out, the boy passed away with his parents and his friend at his side.

 

Ms. Harshwhinny balled up the tissue in her hoof and exhaled a forlorn sigh. An azure hoof grazed her foreleg and rested upon her pastern. The mare’s glazed eyes met the stallion’s concerned burgundy orbs.

 

“You okay?” he softly inquired, giving her hoof a gentle squeeze. “Was that too much? Should I have chosen a happier movie?”

 

“No, this was just fine,” she reassured him, blinking away a fresh set of tears. She internally questioned the usage of animation for a film like this, but she honestly did enjoy it. She now understood why Comet Burst had been reduced to an emotional mess. It evoked a reaction from her, but failed to push her to the same level the stallion had experienced.

 

Comet Burst leaned in, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. Surprised by the physical contact, Ms. Harshwhinny’s eyes sprang open wide, but she permitted it. It was merely a gesture of comfort. The stallion retracted with a sheepish smile that the mare couldn’t help but find endearing. He was truly a sweet stallion.

 

No words were exchanged. Comet Burst was reminded of the earlier, unintentional contact and his cheeks gave his navy blue freckles a light pink backdrop. He wasn’t permitted to dwell on the memory long, as a nip to the foreleg by Eggroll claimed his attention.

 

“Uh…Wanna watch somethin’ happy now?” he offered, removing his hoof from Ms. Harshwhinny’s to stroke the Quaker parrot’s head.

 

“Yes.”


End file.
